Candid
by high improbability
Summary: //After all, how many times in a lifetime could you catch Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye making out? In his office? They all knew the answer to this was once. NOW.// Why you should NEVER trust Jean Havoc with a camera...


**A/N**: M'kay. First order of business. I'm Starlight, first fic for FMA, yadda yadda. All right, so this idea came to me _in a dream_. No, really. So, it took me 5 minutes to think about it, 20 minutes to right, and 5 minutes to read it over and say it sucks. So, basically, I wrote it in half an hour, plus it's unbeta-ed. That should be a nice, big warning sign to you.

All righty, on with the show...

Disclaimer: I'll own Fullmetal Alchemist when pigs fly OR when we see Ed dancing around in a frilly pink tutu in Brotherhood.

* * *

Jean Havoc was grinning.

Normally, to the rest of Roy Mustang's subordinates, this would be a bad sign. A terrible neon sign that just screamed "RUN WHILE YOU CAN!" A terrible sign that showed he was coming up with another insane idea. But this time, they weren't terrified.

Because they were grinning along with him.

Of course, they all knew that Roy would probably kill them for this – or worse, _fire _them. Not a single one of them wanted that to happen, of course, after all, how could Havoc get a girlfriend if he was broke? And how could Falman...never mind.

But this time, it was definitely worth it.

After all, how many times in a lifetime could you see Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye _making out? In his office_?

And how many times in a lifetime could you catch this with a top-of-the-line camera?

Kain Fuery, Vato Falman, and Heymans Breda knew the only answer to this was once.

_Now_.

So, probably, if Mustang didn't fire them or burn them to death, Hawkeye would probably come after them with her .45 caliber rifle. They'd be doomed.

"But that's only if they _will_ catch us," Havoc had assured them with a wink. "And besides," he'd added, "Think of all the _moolah_ this little scheme'll give us!"

That had won them over.

The plan was to catch their boss and Hawkeye making out in the office through the window. That was easy enough. Step two: take a picture of them making out. A little…less easy, but they were in the _military_, for God's sake! Who was to say they couldn't take a teeny-tiny little picture?

Step three was to sell the picture to Edward Elric, whom Havoc reported to be willing to pay a gigundo amount of money just for this one little source of blackmail material.

Easy enough.

Step four was to pray that Ed wouldn't shove the picture into Mustang's face, post it on a billboard, or have it published on the front page of _The Amestris Times_.

And if any of this did happen, step five was to pray that Mustang or Hawkeye wouldn't find out that _they_ took the picture.

And if they did, step six was to pray that they would come out of the office alive.

* * *

The plan seemed foolproof enough.

Which was why they were clustered around one of their boss's office windows, with Havoc holding a totally expensive, professional camera which the Armstrong family had kindly let them borrow.

Or at least, that was how Havoc put it. They had a feeling that he got it in a…not-so-honest way.

"Probably stole it off one of his girlfriends," Falman grumbled.

"Naw, Seraphine was totally willing to lend it to me!" Havoc snapped. "She just told me, 'don't let it get wet or I'll kill you.'

But none of that was important now!! Because Mustang and Hawkeye were in the office, making polite conversation. So far, so good.

Their hearts got all excited when Mustang leaned in toward her, but fell when she handed him a pile of paperwork. Damn.

"When will they just get on with it already?" Breda whined.

And then it finally happened. Yes, folks, Royai fans and Royai haters, it finally happened: Mustang pulled Hawkeye into a long, passionate kiss, and they could _swear_ that they could hear violin music in the background.

"Hurry, Havoc, take it, take it, take it!" Fuery urged. "Come on!"

The problem was that Havoc really didn't _know_ how to use this kind of camera. So he fumbled with it for a few seconds, until finally…

_Click_!

That was it. The sound of all their dreams coming true. Havoc imagined himself surrounded with a ton of beautiful ladies, Falman thought about that new car he was going to buy, and Fuery imagined the dog adoption center he was going to build, and Breda thought about all the…never mind.

"Score!" The four of them high-fived each other in triumph. Mission accomplished.

And they were about to leave, ready to assume their regular duties as if nothing had happened, ready to give Edward Elric a present even better than the Philosopher's Stone, when…

_Plunk!_

The camera lid fell off and landed on the ground.

The four of them stared at it in disbelief for a few seconds, then Breda, Fuery, and Falman raised their heads to glare at Havoc. Ignoring Havoc's pleas of "Honestly, I didn't know you had to take the lid off!" and "PLEASE DON'T KILL ME, PLEASE OH PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!" they pounced on him.

And it was all Havoc could do to keep the cherished camera out of harm's way when the catfight ensued. And by this, he meant stick it in the air while trying to fend off his co-worker's attacks.

And then they felt it.

The pitter-patter of rain on their backs.

Oh, and since the camera was stuck high in the air, it naturally got wet first when the rainfall suddenly turned into a thunderstorm.

So they were standing in the rain, catfight abandoned, looking depressed, broke, and ready to die.

When they noticed the soaking wet camera.

"Crap!" Havoc yelped. "Seraphine's going to kill me – or worse, _break up with me_!"

"Look on the bright side," Fuery muttered. "At least it can't get any worse."

"Oh, yes it can." The four of them looked up to meet Roy Mustang's expressionless onyx eyes leaning out the window. And behind him, they could see Hawkeye polishing her pistol, an evil glint in her eyes. "Just _what_ are the four of you doing with that camera out there, anyway?"

_Oh, shit._


End file.
